


The navy-boy and the ferry driver

by mechanicalsky



Category: Heir's Game
Genre: AU by the comic owner, But still made by a fan, Heir's Game - Freeform, M/M, One-Shot, short & cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 10:27:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16084244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mechanicalsky/pseuds/mechanicalsky
Summary: Isran drives a ferry. That's all there is to it. Well, until the cute law student showed up almost a year ago.





	The navy-boy and the ferry driver

Isran was a ferry driver. At first he’d chosen it because he thought it’d take less moving than the average job, but he soon found that to be wrong. But he’d stuck with it anyway because he was too lazy to choose anything else. And, also, because of the navy-haired man that came on every day. He didn’t know his name or his mission, but for some reason he piqued his curiosity. Maybe it was because of his almost flaky looking moustache, because, in all fairness, it was quite odd. Or it could be because he’s unfairly good-looking.

Isran recognized all this, but he wasn’t here to have a highschool crush. He was here to do his job. But when the boy (that was the nickname he’d decided on) came running down the dock in a panicked frenzy, staring at the slowly closing gates, a leaking coffee in one hand and a Macbook in the other, Isran decided his job could wait for at least a minute or so. He opened the gates.

“Hey, start the ferry already! It’s been a minute already since we were supposed to leave!” A passenger shouted from the back row. 

“Of course, sir. Just a moment please.” Isran replied in neutrality, but rolled his eyes where nobody could see. The navy boy arrived, his cheeks flushed red from running and his eyes bright. As Isran closed the gates, the navy boy gave him a goofy smile and sent a wink his way. Isran flushed red as the navy boy retreated into the rows of seats.

“Alright passengers, sorry for the delay. We’ll be departing at once.” Isran spoke calmly, the complete opposite of the absolute hurricane in his chest.

 

It was almost time to return home. Isran was tired and his legs ached, but hell, payday is payday. He stopped the boat and waited for everyone to board. The navy boy hopped on and Isran felt his face heat up ever so slightly, much to his dismay. This time, though, he held two coffees. The navy boy walked to Isran and smiled warmly. 

“Hey, uh, hey. I just wanted to, y’know, get you this coffee. Like, for opening the gates for me and stuff. I really appreciated that, I had a presentation due today and stayed up too late to, uh, get a good night’s sleep. So here.” He said, somewhat awkwardly, but that was made up due to the fact his voice sounded sweet, smooth and elegant, like calligraphy written with honey. “Oh, also, I didn’t know what you liked so I just got you what I usually get. Sorry.”

“No no, I don’t mind. Thank you very much.” Isran said, too shocked to comprehend but managing a small smile anyway. The navy boy’s smile grew wider and he walked to sit in his usual spot. Isran turned to face the control panel, eyes wide. “Uuhhh, ladies and gentlemen, our next stop will be the last of the day. Please be seated as we are departing now.

 

Isran opened the door to his one-room apartment. It wasn’t the height of luxury but it was cozy and he couldn’t care less. 2 pizza boxes were stacked on his kitchen counter and there was an empty bottle of orange juice in his fridge. Isran downed the last of his coffee, which was overwhelmingly sweet, but he had needed caffeine to survive and it was free, so he was in no position to complain. He was about to throw the paper cup in the trash when he only just noticed some words scrawled in blue pen on the side: a phone number, with the words  _ “Hey, call me! ;) -Theuden” _ overtop. Isran’s breath hitched and his eyes widened, his face growing a shade of red seemingly impossible for his skin tone. 

“What the actual  _ fuck. _ ” Isran stated to nobody in particular.


End file.
